


A Spot On Your Dance Card

by LarielRomeniel



Series: Let The Music Play [2]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Legion of doom - Freeform, Speculation, fixit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielRomeniel/pseuds/LarielRomeniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Relax, little bird. This is just a dance."</p>
<p>But it turned out to be more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spot On Your Dance Card

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to "Knife Dance," and my own hope about what will happen in Season 2.
> 
> Thanks again to Jael for looking this over!

“So, did you remember to save a spot on your dance card for me, little bird?” 

Sara tensed at the low voice in her ear. So many bodies had been shifting in this crowded ballroom that she didn’t realize just who had sidled up to her until he spoke.

He laid a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that was almost a caress against her bare skin. “Calm down,” he said in that same low tone. “We don’t want to cause a scene, do we? I’d hate to spoil such a lovely party. Revitalizing the Glades is such a good cause, after all.”

His hand fell away as she turned to glare at him. She tried to ignore the painful _thump_ of her heart as she saw him. Captain Cold.

No, _Leonard_. Her Leonard. Gideon said so. Even if _he_ didn’t know it.

He was dressed for the occasion, in a midnight blue tuxedo very similar to the one he’d worn to the ballet in Russia. A lifetime ago. It made him blend in with the crowd at this benefit gala sponsored by one of the Legion’s shell corporations in Star City.

It also made him stand out as one of the best-looking men in the room, even with the dark glasses he wore tonight instead of the usual white goggles.

She shivered a little as she remembered what was behind those glasses: dead black eyes that didn’t know her except as… what?

An enemy?

Maybe not exactly that, considering the way he’d spared her life after their bizarre knife dance atop a Coast City rooftop.

Considering the way he’d kissed her during that duel.

He was smiling down at her now, and she could swear the smile wasn’t quite as cold as usual. A hint of a thaw, perhaps.

He offered his hand. “Dance with me, little bird?” When she hesitated, he leaned closer and said, “We need to talk.”

There was something... soft... in his tone. She might even say _warm_. She wished she could see into those eyes. Maybe the blue-green was back.

_“Be careful, Sara,”_ Rip urged over the comms. _“Our Mr. Snart may be buried in there, but Damien Darhk is still in charge.”_

Sara reached up to her earpiece and tapped it off. She could handle this without Rip’s input. She glanced across the dance floor to where Mick was watching her, and gave him a single nod, which he returned.

She turned back to Leonard and took his hand, letting him lead her out. He looked her up and down before stepping closer into a proper dance pose. “Love the dress,” he murmured. “We look like a matched set.”

She was in midnight blue, too, a backless concoction of lace. She shivered a little as his warm hand rested on the small of her back and they started to sway together.

He grinned down at her. “But I have to say,” he told her, “I was expecting to see you in green tonight. I have this vision of you in some slinky green thing, on your knees with your hands tied behind your back.”

She took in a surprised gasp at his description of how she’d looked when Savage had captured her and Rip at that party back in the ‘70s.

Leonard apparently mistook her surprise for something else. “You do have a thing for kink, don’t you? Relax, little bird. This is just a dance,” he whispered. “So, how many knives were you able to get into this outfit?”

“Enough,” she returned. “You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”

He chuckled. “First, my compliments on slipping me that dummy data card. I’m gonna have to up my game with you, little bird.”

“I could say the same for you,” she replied with a little laugh of her own. “You’re not too bad with a knife.”

His smile broadened. “But you can forget about what you came here for tonight. We already moved it.”

She gave him a little pout. “What makes you think that’s all we came for?”

He chuckled and started to answer, but then he paused and put a hand to his ear. His smile fell away, and he let out a sigh as he grasped her hand once again.

“I’m supposed to tell you that Thawne is tired of all this dancing around with each other. I don’t mean this,” he tilted his head toward their joined hands, then tightened his hold on her to spin her around as the music’s tempo picked up. “I mean your team and our team. Thawne’s getting impatient. Losing his cool.”

“So… what? Is this supposed to be some kind of challenge?”

He huffed derisively. “Yeah. Merlyn’s idea. Tomorrow night. Kord Industries warehouse down at the docks.”

“And why should we accept?”

He laughed again. “You heroes would really pass up a chance to put us down?” His head tilted in that listening pose again, and he frowned. “But if you would, I’m supposed to give you some names. Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon, Quentin Lance and Sara Diggle. Mean anything to you?”

Her eyes had widened as he relayed the names. “What have you done with them?” she hissed.

“ _Thawne’s_ done nothing yet,” he answered, “but he says he will if you don’t show.”

He took another listening pause, then said, “ _Message delivered_ ,” in a hiss of his own.

He pulled his earpiece out and threw it to the floor, where he smashed it under the heel of his patent leather dress shoe. Then he caught Sara’s hand one more time and pulled her closer, so he could talk in her ear as they danced.

“None of this is my idea,” he whispered urgently. “Hostages just mean heat. This heroes versus villains bullshit isn’t my scene. All I wanted was the big score Merlyn and Thawne promised, but with all the work I’ve done for them, I still haven’t seen a damn thing.” In a lower tone, he muttered, “Starting to feel like Alexa all over again.”

She pulled her head back to look at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Tell me, little bird, why do I keep seeing you in my dreams?”

Her eyes widened a little. “What… what do you mean?”

“I already told you I had a vision of you in a green dress. It’s not the only one I’ve had. My dreams have shown you fighting beside me, playing cards with me, and staring down the barrel of my Cold Gun with no fear in your eyes.” He paused. “I’ve dreamed of you kissing me. And I don’t mean those kisses back in Coast City. Why am I seeing these things?”

The lazy drawl was gone. This was the voice from Russia, the voice from the engine room. The voice that she thought of as the real Leonard Snart, not the man playing the criminal persona from before the Oculus, or the Legion member from after. Perhaps….

She reached with her free hand to take off his sunglasses.

Blue-green eyes stared back at her.

“Leonard…” She choked back a sob. “You’re seeing those things because they happened.”

“Sara…” He blinked quickly a few times. Then his lips were on hers.

Sara’s mind was spinning. This was the first time he’d called her by name since the Oculus, and this kiss was nothing like the first teasing kiss he’d given her on that rooftop. Nor was it like the bruising kiss he’d taken from her after their knife dance.

This kiss was almost tentative, as if the always-certain Captain Cold was suddenly unsure of himself and of everything he thought he knew.

It was enough to send a thrill of hope through her, and she wound her arms around his neck as she kissed him back. Kissed him back as if a kiss could save him. When they parted, she whispered, “Come back to me.”

His eyes were still closed as he rested his forehead against hers. “Sara… tell Mick. They have Lisa.” He gasped suddenly, as if in pain. She pulled back to see his eyes open.

Dead black again.

Her own eyes filled with tears at the sight.

He removed her arms from around his neck and retrieved his sunglasses. Putting them back on, he drawled, “Thanks for the dance, little bird. And the kiss.” He stepped back from her and kissed her hand. “Until tomorrow night.”

Another Captain Cold smile, and he turned on his heel to saunter through the crowd toward the exit.

Sara felt Mick come up behind her. “So?”

She wiped the tears away. “Mick, he’s remembering. He says he dreamed about me. And his eyes… they were _his_ eyes for just a minute.”

Mick nodded. “I know, Blondie. I saw.” He put a hand on her shoulder and led her off the dance floor. “What did he say?”

She sniffled just a little. “They’re challenging us, Mick. All of us. And they’ve taken hostages. Cisco, Caitlin, my dad, and Dig’s daughter.”

Mick’s face reddened in anger. “Those bastards took a _little kid_ barely out of diapers _?_ That’s not something my partner does.”

Sara shook her head. “He said he wasn’t part of it, that he only wanted the score but it’s like Alexa all over again.”

Mick grunted at that, understanding more about that word and its history than Sara thought she ever would.

There was still one more thing Sara had to tell him. “Mick, before his eyes changed again he said to tell you… they have Lisa.”

Now Mick growled. “Knew there had to be something like that in play. Let’s get back to the ship. We’ve got a lot of plans to make and not much time.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m keeping my promise, Blondie. We’re getting him back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I do plan at least one more follow-up to this. Might be more than one if the muse demands.


End file.
